Here’s the photo we used in HMM of the Buick for the headlamp wiring harness replacement story. That harness was crispy and cut up, too. Photos by Anthony DeMauro, Jeff Koch and the author.

As I write this, I’m supposed to be working on my 1967 Buick GS 400. It’s well after work hours and I promised myself I would dedicate some time to it tonight. However, a freak storm rolled in 45 minutes ago and caused lots of flash flooding in my area. It also flooded my patio, which in turn started pouring water into my house via the back door, so my son and I had to quickly dig a small trench around the back of the house to let the water run-off. Now I don’t feel like working on the Buick and the usual “I didn’t work on the car today and I should have” guilt is setting in.

Over the last never-ending winter, all I could think about was getting the Buick back to a turnkey cruiser again and I worked toward it. Now it’s literally a couple days of work away from that, yet things keep coming up and it keeps sitting.

This is my driver, the car that’s finished—if that statement can be true of any car—and it was supposed to provide carefree cruising all summer long. So far, it hasn’t happened and summer is quickly coming to a close. More time would always help, but at this moment, motivation is what’s lacking.

I’ve done the usual tricks over the last two weeks—cleaned up the garage and laid out the parts and the tools I need for the projects—but I haven’t gotten down to it yet.

The first step is to replace the engine wiring harness, because the factory one is both modified and crispy in some areas, followed by installing a vintage set of Stewart Warner gauges that I’ve been collecting one at a time over the last year. They are sitting in my living room, and I find myself staring at them nightly.

While I have always loved my cars and driving them, I have sometimes loathed working on them. Part of it stems from past experiences that probably all of us went through as teenagers, working on our cars outside in the rain, in the dark, or in the middle of winter just to keep them running to get us to school and/or work.

For example, if you read the blog “First car memories: Speeding through my senior year of high school in a 1967 Chevelle SS” that was posted back in January, you already know that I had to swap the engine in my 1967 Chevelle SS just a few weeks after I bought it. I did it in the driveway with hand tools and a rented cherry picker.

This is what a typical workday on the GTO started like circa 1988 in my grandparents’ backyard.

Two years later, work on my 1967 GTO began in a rented two-car garage that was costing me $200 per month. When my Grandparents heard about it, they offered up their backyard—for free. For $200 less per month, I wasn’t about to worry about working on dirt and grass instead of concrete. I swapped the GTO’s ailing 400 engine for a rebuilt 455 and removed and reinstalled the Turbo-400 trans after I had it rebuilt. Then I painted the car in that same backyard with an electric spray gun and got it in good enough mechanical shape to be a daily driver. (No the paint didn’t look great, but at least the car was all one color!)

I had sanded what felt like 40 pounds of filler off of the GTO’s body in the late 1980s to reveal where work was needed. When I painted it in the yard soon thereafter, it was simply to cover the body in one color and protect it until I could do the bodywork. In 1995, when this photo was taken, I was still driving the GTO with that same paintjob. You can see every dent down the side.

As you know if you read the blog “Even Trivial Journeys Can Be Memorable in Your Collector Car” posted back in May, when I got my 1977 Trans Am in the early 1990s it had no heat—the A/C / heater box was gone. I had to buy one and install it with a new heater core and blower motor in the driveway during the winter. Despite the fact that somebody had changed the blower motor before and cut a trap door into the inner fenderwell, the job still took so long that I finished it when it was pitch black outside and about 35-degrees. It left a lasting impression on me, but at least the T/A had heat.

When I later decided to convert the T/A to a four-speed, I did it in the loose-stone driveway behind the apartment we rented. There I was under the Pontiac, bench-pressing the Super T10 into position to align the input shaft with the clutch and slide it forward. I had imprints from the stones on my back for months. Sure, I could have put down a piece of plywood, but I used it all under the jack-stands and getting more would have required forethought—something I was lacking in my early 20s.

Here’s a view of my apartment’s loose stone driveway from my kitchen window circa 1992. I swapped the Hurst’s knocking, non-stock 425 Olds engine for good running 455 Olds in this driveway, and converted the Trans Am to a four-speed from an automatic.

I purchased my 1973 Hurst Olds for $900 on a $1,800 asking price, as it had a non-original 425-cu.in. engine with a rod knock. I knew an engine swap was in its immediate future. After locating a correct 1973 Olds 455 four-barrel engine, I installed it in that same stone driveway, alone.

The cherry picker’s boom wasn’t long enough to move the engine back to its proper mounting area, so I had to take off the front bumper. It still wasn’t long enough but it was close. I had to line everything up, and then use a pry bar to tip the back of the cherry picker up a little bit to make the 455 go back and down the rest of the way. Was it safe? No. Do I recommend it? No. Was it effective? Yes.

So now years later, I have a house with a two-car garage. It has the T/A and Buick it in, it’s heated and attached to the house, so I really have no excuse to not work on the car. Yet here I sit writing a blog about not working on the Buick instead of actually turning some wrenches…and I have plenty of wrenches now…the right ones to fit the right bolts, not to mention many other proper tools to tackle various tasks.

Though I did have a good track record with the big jobs working out okay in the end and staying together over the years, when I rushed some smaller jobs back then it sometimes showed. Nowadays when I fix something on any of the cars, I don’t rush and it stays fixed. That’s satisfying.

The rain has stopped, the tornado warning has expired. Did I mention there was a tornado warning, too? It came five minutes after we dug the trench. The sun is out, my patio is draining and I’ve done enough wallowing in my self-imposed guilt. I’m going to the garage to work on my Buick. I may not get too much accomplished, but at least it’ll be something.

I have to assume that I’m not the only one who used to go to great lengths to keep drivers operational out of necessity without a garage, a lift, air tools, or sometimes even the proper hand tools. If you can relate, then share your stories of the “interesting” things that you had to do to your cars with little help and in less-than-ideal conditions, so we can all justify why we haven’t worked on our favorite car this week…this month?…this year?

113 Responses to “Why do we sometimes lack the motivation to work on our cars?”

Its kinda like the old joke we had back in the service; a man about to retire was told that he had a bad heart by his doctor and that he would have to cut all of his activities in half. He replied ‘does that include sex?” The Doctor stammered and said ‘well I suppose so.” Then the pensioner to be said ‘which half do I cut, the talking about it, or the thinking about it?

So many projects end up like that, when often the amount of time involved isn’t all that great, but we spend more time talking or thinking about it than actually doing it.

I bought a MGB in 07 and did a lot of work to get it back on the road, brakes, gas tank, clutch master cylinder, and various other things. I ran out of money and saved up for tires and exhaust which took a year or so. I’m now on the last stretch and need to find time between family, church, car club and anyhing else that sucks away weekends. You know those months where you know hou won’t have a free weekend at all? Hard to get motovated. A friend with a runing car is allways good, they can provide inspiration and help. You older folks can help us 40 somethings too with advise moral support and just hanging out. I need to get back to the garage!

In 1962 at the age of 20 years old, i purchased a wrecked 51 Chrysler with the hemi engine and a 37 Chev sedan, with the help of a pole between two trees in the back yard, a borrowed chain hoist and a $75 stick welder I proceeded to transplant the hemi drive train into the Chev.
Now 52 years later, today i took a drive in my 65 Falcon Ranchero
which i just painted and installed a 4BT Cummins diesel and 3 spd. overdrive trans. The Falcon has been in our family 49 years..

Thomas, you can always leave that 67 at my house. always liked 67’s.
At age 59, now 63, I bought a front engine dragster. its buick powered. best thing I could have done. keeps me young and its a lot of fun. real easy to work on. the garage is 40 x 40 and full. I still have to change my oil or whatever outside. some ct winters are a little tougher than others, but the top of turf still looks good to me. lol

I turned 80 in July have a ’23 Buick and a ’29 Nash that have been sitting I n my shop for years and the longer they sit the harder it is to get back on them. I do keep my ’72 Buick going though. Sometimes it is easier to take a nap or watch an old movie than to go out in the shop.

I just found an original copy of the NASH FAMILY ALBUM at an estate sale here in Tucson, Az. It has 138 photographs of nearly all the models built by Nash Motors and its predecessor, the Thomas B. Jeffery Company, of Kenosha, Wisconsin. Also the letter to the person who requested the album is in the album also. Never knew the quality of Nash and the clean lines until I looked at this booklet. There is a very nice 1919 Nash touring car down in Tombstone Arizona that is very nice. Maybe you can get inspired again and complete your Nash. Is yours the model 370?

Hi all: Seeing the GS400 makes me feel bad! While living, and growing up in Clearwater, Fla., I special ordered a new 1967, GS400, from Stone Buick. It was dark green, 4 speed, black bucket seat interior! It cost around $3300. Sure wish I had it now, often wonder what happened to it? art smith, Brooklet, Ga.

Great stories–all of them. I will turn 65 on Saturday and in recent years have been approached by guys who say ”I heard you like to work on cars”, if they are strangers my reply is “I hear you like to work on computers”—that usually ends the conversation.
Still enjoy helping friends, but I’m at the age where if I crawl under a car I definitely need help getting back on my feet.

I can describe my history of working on cars in a few simple words that I think everyone will understand: Fiats, daily driver, US Army.
Now that I’m retired, I have the three-car garage with hydraulic lift, air compressor and all the tools I need. And of course, I still have the Fiats! Enough said.

When I have actually had a car ‘finished’ I spent much more time thinking of the next upgrade it needed than I did actually driving it. Actual use is far less of a motivation for these cars than it used to be when we needed a cool car for our next date or to impress your buddies. Good judgement and increased traffic/law enforcement/cell phones means we don’t really get to go fast anyway. Plus our daily drivers do just fine with far less stress to operate them. Since the project is really the point in itself, (more than the completion) we just wait until conditions are perfect to work in the garage. They rarely are, but we always feel much better when we make the time. Recognize that the time is not about getting the toy car drivable but is instead much needed therapy and it becomes easier to prioritize.

In 1966 my dad purchased a brand new 66 c10 stepside. I took over the truck in 73 and drove it till 2006. then the truck just sat. Last year I decided to get it running again. I bought a used 250 straight 6 to replace the 2nd replacement engine. rebuilt the brakes, got new tires and a new speedometer. Everything else on the truck is in good shape and mostly original. It has over 350k miles and has never been wrecked. I know I should be working on it daily or at least weekly to get it back to original, but for now I just enjoy driving it and remembering the smile on my Dad’s face when he drove it home the first time. I’ve had a lot of offers for the truck but will never sell it.

Recently I was given the opportunity to assist volunteer work in restoring an ancient Studebaker one horse wagon loaned to Nipomo Heritage Memorial Park by heirs of the youngest son of Captain William Dana, who was granted a. 38,000 acre parcel in Nipomo, California in 1837.
The Studebaker Wagon, Chasis # 680, had been exposed to the elements and needed TLC. I eagerly, for 77 years, jumped to the opportunity to participate in that effort, especially because my $ contribution and ownership interest is zip. So, I have the best of the opportunities with no risks. It goes without saying that I enjoy working with others on a project which ties into the history of where I live.

Need motivation to get back into the garage? Have only one TV downstairs and wait for daughter and wife to tune into “Say Yes to the Dress”. Another great night of George Jones Honky Tonk Songs (Pandora) and serious wrenching is on the way!

A friend and I used to buy repo’d car from a finance company, fix and flip but every so often we’d make the fatal mistake of hanging on to something we liked as a daily driver.

Hence the two early 70s Australian Chrysler Valiant wagons we ended up with in the early 80s.

Mine had a habit of stalling if you floored it getting out on to a busy road and the passenger front door wouldn’t open. They were in the ‘must get a round tuit’ category.

Back then, an old trick was to occasionally lend your car to a mate who’d immediately notice things like bad brakes, which tended to deteriorate over time so the daily driver didn’t notice so much.

My friend traded his Valiant for something he needed more, required a big car for the day and pinched mine. Result: nearly T-boned when the 245 Hemi 6 died trying to get him across a 4-laner. And he got an earful when the missus couldn’t let herself out at the mall.

So I also got an earful. The fixes had taken five minutes each – advance the ignition timing a few degrees, remove door trim and use pliers to put a kink in the door release linkage sufficient to shorten it so it would trip the lock.

I just turned 70 in August and you just told the story of my ENTIRE life ! How did you know ?
I have an ’81 Imperial in my 3 car garage that is mechanically correct, new paint, some new leather and needing about 40 hours of hard work to have a great driver.
And I can’t get the energy to walk down the stairs and work on the car.
I guess I will have to throw money at it to get it done–uh oh–did I mention that the money tree died and there’s none left for toys !

In the video that accompanies Mark McCourt’s 3/28/14 Hemmings story, vintage Saab guy Bruce Turk has an ironclad rule: He spends no more that 90 minutes, no matter what, each night that he works on his Saabs. So, after awhile that time adds up to some real accomplishment. I admire his discipline !

Back in my early twenties…(the early 70’s) I swapped a big block chevy into my 73 pickup for an anemic 350. Did it over a weekend with a chain hoist attached to a limb on a sturdy walnut tree. When the promised power of the big block failed to show up I swapped the small block back in…this was all done within about four days, (two swaps) outside in the evenings after work, working with a flashlight sometimes.

Now-a-days I can’t even bring myself to start on a new clutch-transmission project in my ’67’ Mustang Fastback…worried about the unknowns…sheeeez what gives?

My first hope of a project at 15 (in the ’70’s) was a 1963 Jaguar Sedan. It wouldn’t start so Dad said no. I ended up with a 1963 Corvair conv. Rotted floor pan from the previous owner leaving it in the rain with a leaking top. The all-time favorite was a 1963 Triumph TR-4A, in spite of lucas parts electrical problems. And dual Strohmberg carbs. I learned a lot about electrical, mechanical and painting from that car. At 56 my garage is currently empty of a project. I hope to retire from an aircraft mechanic job in a few years. There is a ’54 Chevy truck sitting on the family farm calling my name.

In 1966 while driving my 1955 Buick Century from San Diego, CA to Salt Lake City, UT the rear end broke down just as I got to Las Vegas. I called a wrecking yard and was able to get another rear end delivered to me. I changed it in the dirt in a field just off the Interstate I had basic tools and a bumper jack was all. (Try that by yourself sometime, NOT RECOMMENDED!). Crazy now looking back but I jacked the car up in center of rear bumper and had been underneath the car. I had it part way out when the car fell sideways off the jack. I was able to jump free. I stacked two rear tires and spare under one corner of bumper and put jack on other. I got the job done but consider myself to be lucky to be alive today (age 70).

I’ve done my share of fixing old cars in driveways and back yards, in bad weather, because I needed to use the car and didn’t have the money to hire a professional mechanic. Today I too have a heated garage and tools, but my project seems to sit and make little progress.

Some of the problem is time – too many things going on, leaving too little time to for my project. But my bigger problem is that I’m tired of quick fixes that will need to be re-done later, and amateur quality work. I’d rather do the job right the first time, and while it doesn’t have to be show quality it needs to be nice. In the old days I was happy enough to get the car back in service, but now I want the repairs to last and look good.

That creates conflicts because I want to do the work myself but I get intimidated by what I expect the difficulty or complexity to be. Compounding that problem is that every time I work on one thing I find another thing that needs attention. Simple repairs blossom into restorations. So I get task start paralysis.

I need to get over all of that. Just fix what I can as best as I can, and if I can’t live with the results (or prove that it’s over my head) give in and take it to a professional.

Im 25. I own 22 Classic cars. I have cold weather storage for 3 at a time. A heated 2 car garage to work in and fabricate in. Montana winters provide 4-5 month window to enjoy them in nice weather.I have all tools necessary for any build. Decent money when not buying…A NEW PROJECT CAR! Have live in girlfriend that cut the car time by ALOT.. Sometimes find myself wondering why I still bother and what would it be like with under 6 cars.